


Cornflowers

by heismyfirstolive (orphan_account)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: First Meetings, Fluff, M/M, Painter Castiel, School
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-21
Updated: 2013-11-21
Packaged: 2018-01-02 05:16:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1052938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/heismyfirstolive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"There was a new kid in Dean’s class, and he wasn’t sure yet what to make of him."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cornflowers

There was a new kid in Dean’s class, and he wasn’t sure yet what to make of him.

The boy, Castiel, was odd, that much Dean had decided. He sat alone during class and at lunch, and had barely spoken more than a sentence since his arrival.

He stared a lot. Dean caught his eye across the room once, and instead of looking away, Dean stared back. He only stopped when the girl sat next to him asked to borrow a pencil. 

Dean didn’t know much about the boy, but he tried to learn what he could. He was a little shorter than Dean, but a few months older; he had dark hair and serious eyes, and sometimes, when he thought no one was looking, he would smile to himself. Dean wondered what he was remembering that made him so happy.

It was during Castiel’s third day at his new school that Dean decided to introduce himself. It was the afternoon, during an art lesson in which they were supposed to be painting flowers. Dean hated art and plants, so he left his half-finished painting and walked over to Castiel’s table, where he was sat alone. Dean pulled out a chair and sat down across from the boy.

“Hey.”

Castiel looked up, surprise showing in the widening of his eyes, perhaps since the other kids had stopped bothering to pay him any attention. He didn’t answer though, instead returning to concentrating intensely on his picture. He was painting cornflowers; Dean thought they matched his eyes.

“I’m Dean.” Dean extended his hand towards the boy, expecting him to shake it, but Castiel didn’t even bother raising his head this time.

Never one to refuse a challenge, Dean waited for Castiel to lift his brush off the paper, before swiping the painting out from under his hands.

“Wow, Castiel, you’re quite the artist.”

Castiel was glaring at Dean, fist clenching around his paintbrush hard enough to break it, but Dean just laughed.

“Relax, I’ll give it back. But you have to talk to me first.”

The other boy frowned as though social interaction was a completely foreign concept to him, and still said nothing. Dean sighed.

“C’mon Cas, throw me a bone here.”

Castiel cocked his head to one side, confused.

“Nobody’s ever called me that before.”

His voice was deeper than Dean expected, and he spoke with a kind of gravity that made every word seem important. His hand relaxed around the paintbrush, and Dean breathed out a little.

“Well if you don’t like it, I can-”

“No. It’s nice,” and then he smiled. Just a little one, but a smile nonetheless. “Can I have my picture back now?”

Dean laughed and handed Cas the painting, but not before taking another moment to admire it first. The guy really was good, much better than what Dean had seen from the other kids in his class. Cas seemed to excel in pretty much every subject.

He took the picture and went back to working on it as though the exchange with Dean had never happened, his brow furrowed and tongue held between his teeth in concentration.

“You’re weird.”

Dean hadn’t intended for it to sound so callous, and he winced internally when Cas looked up at him with hurt colouring his expression, eyes sad and soft.

“Not in a- I meant it in a good way, Cas. What I meant was that you’re different, interesting. I like it,” Dean said, trying to sound comforting. “Hey, y’know, if you wanted to eat lunch together sometime, we could. Unless you prefer eating alone?”

That made Cas really smile, a grin that reached his eyes and made his whole face brighter, all signs of sadness gone. Dean smiled back, warmth spreading through him at having made this strange boy so happy.

“Thank you, Dean, I’d like that.”

And if Dean spent his entire walk home thinking about pale blue eyes, grinning from ear to ear like an idiot and happier than he’d been in a long time, well, he could hardly be blamed for it.

**Author's Note:**

> just a bit of fluffy goodness. these crazy kids are young teenagers here, maybe 13/14?
> 
> ~i have no idea how american schools work~


End file.
